


Dark Beauty

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-12-31
Updated: 1998-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:58:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Dark Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Dark Beauty by Ria

| 

_Dark Beauty_

By Ria 

**PROLOGUE **

_79 A.D._

_Callista raised a hand and wiped the sweat from her brow. The sword moved effortlessly in her hands as she slashed it through the air. Her hair was tied back and flowed down her back like a black veil. The white tunic she wore was old and torn in places that would have shamed a more sensitive woman. But Callista was no ordinary woman. She was Immortal and had lived for over 3,000 years. She cared little for others' opinions save that of her husband, Nicklaus. The courtyard provided some privacy as the stone walls were high enough that no one would be able to see her battling her foe, unless they climbed it and sat on top._

Thrusting her sword arm forward, the other hand held up, she kicked at the invisible enemy and screamed. Over and over she pushed her body to the limit and when it could take no more she fell on her knees. Her head snapped up when she sensed another of her kind. It always amazed her how her heart would start to slam against her chest when she felt another Immortal's quickening. It was a warning, whether it was a friend or an enemy. Sooner or later she might even have to face her husband. In the end there could be only one. Only one. 

Her eyes darted to the entryway and she prepared herself. The figure entered and paused. "Callista, do not tell me you wish to harm me?" 

Callista smiled. "Never you husband." Running, she dropped her sword and went into his arms. "It is good to see you," she said looking into eyes as dark as her own. "I've missed you." She held his hands at arms' length and took him in. His hair was black like her own and it hung straight, grazing his shoulders. His chest was strong and muscular and at the moment she wanted nothing more than to feel his bare flesh against hers, but other matters needed to be discussed. 

"And I you." Nicklaus embraced his wife, then kissed her. His tongue parted her lips and moaned. It had been so long since he'd lain with her. How he had missed her! "Callista . . ." 

"Nicklaus, there is something I need to tell you." 

He knew the instant he had seen her with a sword that someone meant her harm "Who is it?" 

Shaking her head she said, "He says his name is Ciro . . . " 

"Greek." Taking her hand he led her inside the house. "What does he want?" He asked, already knowing the answer. 

"He wants my head." 

"Where is he?" Nicklaus growled. "I will take care of him." 

Grabbing his arm she shook her head. "No, you cannot interfere. He wants ME and has made the challenge, you CANNOT interfere." 

Nicklaus nodded, his heart growing heavy at the thought of losing his wife. "Why you?" 

"He knows I have lived over 3,000 years. What better reason?" Callista led him to the divan and smiled. "I will be fine. Right now I think we should go to the bathhouse and get reacquainted." Her hand went to his face and traced her finger along his lips. 

"If he has issued the challenge . . . " 

"He will come when he is ready." 

"Callista . . . " 

Putting a finger to his lips she said, "This is our life, Nicklaus. We fight to keep our heads and hopefully win the Prize. One day, we might even have to face each other." 

"No," he said shaking his head. "Never." 

Nodding she said, "For now we are husband and wife. At the time of the Gathering . . . " 

"Enough Callista. All I wish now is to be with you. We will deal with the Gathering and Ciro later." Pulling her to his chest, his lips sought hers once again willing her words away. 

The Game and Ciro were forgotten as they took their pleasure of each other. 

* * *

**Seacouver, Present Day**

The night air was cool against his skin as Duncan MacLeod entered the parking lot from the terminal. He observed that most of his fellow passengers had family or friends to greet them upon arrival. Yet here he was, once again, alone. Richie was gone, Tessa was gone, Fitz was gone. Amanda was who knows where. With a black duffel bag over his shoulder, he tightened the leather belt on his coat and headed for the only constant in his life, the black T-bird. 

Turning the ignition, Duncan MacLeod let out a sigh. Putting the car in gear, he drove to Seacouver and to the lonely loft that waited for him. 

With the top down, he felt a sense of peace as the wind caressed his now short hair. There were things that he had worked through the past two years. Things he thought would eat him alive. First there had been Methos' revelation of what he once had been. It still bothered him that his friend had killed so many for pleasure. Then there was Richie. His death at his hands almost cost him his sanity. If it weren't for the monks..well..it was best not to think what his life would have been like if he hadn't been at the monastery and made peace with himself and Richie. 

Seacouver loomed near and he felt such loneliness. 'You will always be alone!' Wasn't that what Carmen had said to him? She had looked at his lifeline and had seen how empty his life would be, never to marry and destined to be alone. Shaking his head he said, "No, she was wrong. I had Tessa, then Anne." Anne. If only she would have accepted his Immortality, he would be raising a child now. His only chance at being a real father, ripped away from him after it had been offered. 'Life chooses life,' Constantine had said. Anne had chosen a normal life for herself and Mary. He couldn't blame her wanting a normal life. 

Duncan MacLeod knew he would live and fight as he always did. Hopefully along the way he would find someone to share his life with. Someone who would understand and accept his Immortality. 

* * *

Claire Matthews wrinkled her nose in annoyance. She'd been in Washington for three days and still no word from MacLeod. She was beginning to think she'd been had by Dr. Lindsey. Having left several messages for him on her first day, she decided it was time for a hotel. It was obvious he either wasn't in town or didn't care to return her calls. The clock on the desk read eleven thirty. 

"Let's try again shall we, Mr. MacLeod?" Dialing his number, she let it ring once, twice... 

"MacLeod," said the male voice. 

"Duncan MacLeod?" she asked, shocked that she had finally gotten a live person on the phone. 

"Yes. May I help you?" he said. 

"My name is Claire Matthews. I've been trying to reach you for three days." 

"I just arrived last night. What can I help you with?" 

"Dr. Lindsey said she would leave the keys with you. Can I come now to get them?" 

"Keys?" he asked. 

"Keys to the house. Her house. She left last week for California." 

"I wasn't aware of that. Of course I've been out of town for months." 

"She accepted a position with Francisco General. Anyway, do you have them? I've been living out of a suitcase for three days. I'm dying to get into the house." 

"Hold on a second." 

She heard a beep and could hear voices. Ah, he was checking his messages. Several minutes later she heard his voice again. 

"Miss Matthews, I can have the keys for you by two o'clock. Do you know where I am?" 

"The dojo? I passed by a few times." 

"Yes, I'll see you then." Click. 

"Finally!" 

With two o'clock being a little over two hours away, she decided to pack and treat herself to lunch. Once in the lobby, she had the valet bring her Mustang around and pack her bags in the trunk. The morning breeze, whipped her short, blonde hair around her face. Taking a deep breath she looked up at the sky and smiled. Her green eyes were as brilliant as emeralds and her sunkissed skin glowed. "Today, I start a new life," she said to herself. "A new business, a new house. This is going to be great." 

Claire had been hesitant about going out on her own. The advertising firm she worked for was one of the best, but it was a boy's club and she was tired of seeing the women held back from getting promotions. With her mother financing her, she was able to strike out on her own. She already had two employees and three accounts she had lured away from the company. 

"Miss, you're all ready," said the young man. 

"Oh, thank you. Here you go," she said, handing him a ten-dollar bill. 

"Gee, thanks!" 

Claire winked at him and drove off whistling. 

* * *

With every move, his muscles flexed and tightened. His chest was moist with his sweat as he performed the kata. The news of Ann's departure from Seacouver didn't surprise him. The first message on his machine from her sounded urgent. Finally, she said she would leave the keys at Joe's and to please make sure Miss Matthews received them. She'd rented the house, but had no intention of ever selling. 

He'd made so many mistakes with Ann. No, not mistakes. He couldn't help it that he was Immortal. How many times had he wished he could be mortal? When Tessa had come into his life, he'd been scared to tell her, but had to. She needed to know she would never be able to have children with him, needed to know that he would never grow old while she did. Her reaction had surprised him. She'd cried for HIM. Not for herself. For all the lives he had led, for all the friends he had lost, but most of all for his loneliness. 

His movement slowed and then stopped when he felt another Immortal approaching. 

The woman entered, with her sword visible. She was tall and blonde and very beautiful. "Duncan MacLeod?" she asked, looking at the face then the body of the tall man with the dark, chiseled features. 

Nodding he said, "I assume you're Claire Matthews." His eyes skimmed over the ice pink pantsuit she wore. 

"The one and only," she said. 

"You can put that away," he said pointing to her sword, "I'm harmless." 

"I hope not," she said, laughing. "Harmless men are not my type." 

Wiping the sweat from his face, he said, "Really? Well, then how about dinner? We can discuss exactly what your type is." 

Putting her sword in inside her coat, she nodded. "I'd love too." 

"Come on up and I'll give you those keys." 

Claire followed him into the lift. "This was definitely a good move," she thought. "Thanks mom." 

* * *

Claire didn't know what had awakened her. Blinking, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, looking at her surroundings. She could make out Duncan's sleeping form beside her, his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. When her feet touched the cold floor, her heart started to slam against her chest. What had her so apprehensive? The loft looked as it always had since she'd first stepped into it four months ago. Everything in its place as usual. Walking into the living room she saw the chess set where it always sat on the coffee table. Keeping it company was the empty wine bottle they had consumed several hours earlier. 

"Just nerves," she said to herself as she headed back to bed. That's when she realized what was wrong. The temperature was too cool. Her eyes automatically went to the windows. Closed. They were all closed. Had Duncan turned down the temperature? Not likely. Her first instinct was to wake Duncan, but there was nothing concrete she could tell him. Claire wanted to get into the bed and snuggle against him, but every nerve in her body protested. Quietly retrieving her sword from the side of her bed, she decided to go downstairs. 

The buzzing of the elevator as it descended was nothing compared to the one she felt as the elevator stopped. The feeling traveled her spine and settled in her head. Raising her sword, she stepped out of the elevator. 

"I am Claire Matthews. Show yourself." 

The Immortal wasted no time. Appearing from the office, he smiled. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you. It's just bloody hot down here!" Adam noted, slightly amused, that she had come down in one of MacLeod's T-shirt. Her hair was short and the color of pale wheat, eyes green and blazing. He surmised her to be 5'9 by where the black shirt came to a stop. Her lean legs were long and tanned. 

Claire's eyes followed the tall, lanky man with the short hair, aware of his scrutiny. "Who are you?" 

"Adam Pierson. I'm sure Mac's mentioned me," he said, standing several feet away. 

"No, he hasn't." Claire looked into the hazel eyes, every inch of her prepared for battle. 

Adam continued smiling. "An oversight I'm sure." 

"How did you get in?" 

"Picked the lock," he said. "It's rather late, I'd like to get some sleep . . . " 

"Let's just see what Duncan has to say about that." 

Adam's eyes looked over shoulder. "That must be him now," he said, when he felt the Highlander's calling card. 

"Adam? What are you doing here?" 

Claire lowered her sword upon hearing Duncan's voice, relief washing over her. 

"Needed a place to crash." 

"Why not a hotel?" asked Duncan. 

"Some convention is in town. All booked." 

Duncan MacLeod shook his head. He should be use to his friend's unexpected visits. In the few years he'd known *Adam Pierson* it had always been the same. He'd dropped by whenever he felt like it and made himself at home. "Why didn't you come upstairs?" 

"I saw the Mustang downstairs. Figured you had company for the evening," he said smiling at Claire. 

"Mac, I'm going to bed." To Adam, Claire said, "Next time Pierson don't fool with the temperature." 

Tilting his head Adam grinned as she disappeared back up to the loft. "Feisty one isn't she?" 

"You should meet her mother," Duncan said. 

"Mother?" 

"She'll be here tomorrow. Come upstairs. The couch has missed you." Duncan MacLeod patted his friend on the back, hoping that Eva Matthews would prove to be a distraction for the 5,000-year-old Immortal. 

* * *

Adam tried to cling to the last vestige of his dream. He was in Byron's house approaching a bedroom door when someone called his name. For some reason the violins he heard bothered him. Violins? Opening one eye, he saw MacLeod's new woman in the kitchen. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and stretched. 

"MacLeod, you really do need to widen your range in music," he grumbled. 

"I put that in," Claire said. "Would you like to have breakfast?" 

"Why not?" Adam made his way to kitchen sniffing the air. "Smells good." 

"Thanks. Help yourself." 

Claire watched as Adam Pierson wolfed down the eggs and toast. She wondered how Duncan and Adam had met. They seemed to come from opposite ends of the world. She couldn't imagine Duncan ever showing up without calling first, much less making himself at home without notifying the *host*. 

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's not polite to stare?" he asked, between bites of toast. 

"You're teaching me manners! What a laugh!" Claire noticed the playfulness in his hazel eyes. "Mr. Pierson, my MOTHER could give you lessons." 

"Speaking of which . . . where is she?" Duncan strolled in, dressed in tan slacks and white shirt. His dark hair had grown considerably in the last few months, so that he was no able to tie it back. Since his meeting Claire Matthews four months ago, his life had seemed brighter. One month ago they had gone to New York to visit Eva. Unfortunately, the visit had been cut short due to Eva's upcoming trip to Greece. She had promised to visit as soon as she left Greece. 

"Eva called from the *hotel*. She should be here in about ten minutes." Picking up the phone, she said, "I have to make sure the gardener gets to the house today. Those flowers are dying on me." 

Duncan raised an eyebrow at Adam. "Wonder what hotel had rooms available. You might want to ask her when she gets here Adam." 

"Maybe I will." Adam continued eating as if it were his last meal. "Hey, Mac. Got any beer?" 

"Beer? So early in the morning?" asked Claire. 

"Never too early for beer," Adam replied, opening the fridge. 

The drone of the elevator signaled someone was on their way up. The buzz hit all three Immortals at the same time. Smiling, Claire said, "Must be mom." 

When the gate lifted, in entered Eva Matthews, looking every bit as young as her daughter. Her black hair was pulled into a high pony tail and when she moved the loose curls caressed her shoulders. Brown eyes huge and smiling, she hugged her daughter, then MacLeod. She said, "Who else is here?" Towering over her mother's 5'4" frame, she led her to the kitchen. 

"Eva Matthews, this is Adam Pierson." 

Adam put on his best grin and turned. The face that smiled back had not changed in over 3,000 years. 

* * *

_THE BRONZE AGE _

"Where is that woman of ours Methos?" 

Methos continued tending to his horse. "She's making more of that brew you enjoy so much." 

"Have you given her a name yet?" 

"I thought I'd give you the honor, Kronos." 

"I take my pleasure of her Methos, nothing more. She's like the others. You seem to be the one who gets attached _."_

Methos didn't miss the reference to Cassandra. It had been months since she had escaped, no doubt dying dozens of times along the way. He *had* become somewhat attached to her. It was different with this one. "It doesn't matter what we call her. I don't have much use for her other than on her back." 

Kronos laughed. "Name her brother. I've taken a liking to her. She does well on all fours as well. Quite an appetite that one has." 

"Very well." Methos looked away from his horse and looked at Kronos. "Duvessa." 

"Duvessa," Kronos said. 

With a slap to his back, Kronos walked away. "I shall see if I can find our Duvessa. It has been awhile since I've ridden her. Think she misses me?" That last question did not need an answer. 

Methos watched as he wandered around the camp. If the woman was near, he hoped she was prepared. He had seen women leave Kronos' tent bruised and sometimes bleeding from bite marks. Unfortunately, for Duvessa, she was Immortal and would recover quickly from any wounds he inflicted. He kept her in his tent for hours. Methos even suspected he'd killed her once or twice during his taking of her. 

"Methos?" 

The hazel eyed Immortal looked in the dark eyes and he felt his heart twitch. "Yes, woman. What do you want?" 

The woman lowered her eyes, hesitating. 

"I don't have all day. What is it?" 

"If you have no one to . . . share your tent tonight . . . I . . . " 

"You wish to be with me tonight. Is that what you ask?" 

He saw her dark head nodding and lifted her chin so she would meet his eyes. Her face was round with large eyes and ample lips. "That would please me. I have a gift for you." He saw the brown eyes sparkle for an instant. "Today, I will give you a name. Duvessa." 

"Duvessa," she repeated as Kronos had done. "What does it mean?" 

"It means you are mine for the night. Go wait in my tent." 

The woman turned, her lips upturned in a slight smile. 

"Duvessa . . . " 

"Yes, Methos?" she said, turning her head. 

"I expect your best tonight." 

"Yes, Methos." 

* * *

Eva extended her hand. "Nice to meet you Adam." 

Adam Pierson looked into the large eyes and saw no hint of recognition on her part. Shaking her hand, he replied, "Nice to meet you too." 

"So, what's on the agenda for today. I hear there's an art exhibition downtown,"she said looking from Claire to Duncan. 

"Mom, please slow down. You just got here," laughed Claire. 

"I'm too old to waste time. So what's first, the art exhibition, museums, auctions or should we just hang out here all day and talk." 

Duncan MacLeod smiled at Eva and led her to the living room. Sitting her down on the leather couch he said, "Eva relax. We have all day. How about some breakfast?" 

Adam continued to stare at her not believing she didn't recognize him. She crossed one jean clad leg over the other and folded her arms across her chest. "No, thanks Duncan," she said. 

"Is something wrong Adam?" asked Claire, leaning into him. "Why are you staring?" 

"She's a beautiful woman," he said, never taking his eyes off Eva. 

"That she is." She didn't particularly care for Adam Pierson, but there was no point in telling him to stay away from Eva. If her mother wanted any part of Adam, no one could tell her any differently. Hopefully, he would make himself scarce as they took her mother sightseeing. "Eva, I made eggs and . . . " 

"Not hungry, baby. Can we just get going?" she asked rising. 

The telephone's ring halted her response. "I'll get it." After a few moments, Claire hung the up the phone. "Well, duty calls. There's an emergency at the office. It shouldn't take too long. You three go on and I can meet up with you for lunch." 

"What kind of emergency could there possibly be in an advertising company?" 

"Mom . . . " 

"Tsk, tsk," Eva said, shaking her head. 

" _Eva,_ I have to keep the clients happy. There's a new girl I hired and she's having a problem with one of the clients. You three go ahead and I'll meet you for lunch, or you can just wait around for me to get back." 

"It's up to you Eva," said Duncan. 

"We'll go." 

"Great. Why don't we meet at Joe's? Say around . . . two o'clock?" At their agreement, Claire bolted out the door. 

"Now gentlemen, can we PLEASE get out of here?" asked Eva. Once again the phone's insistent ringing stopped their progress. "Let it ring Mac." 

"Sorry. It might be important." Duncan answered the phone and like Claire, spoke for a few minutes. 

"Duncan, no. You too?" Eva asked, when he hung up the phone. 

"I'll meet you at Joe's for lunch. I'm really sorry." To Adam he said, "Adam, would you mind playing tour guide?" 

"Not at all. It will be my pleasure." Then I can see what kind of game she's playing, he thought. 

"I guess it's just you and me Adam," she said, hooking her arm through his. 

"Eva," said Duncan. "Behave." 

"Who me? Of course!" Pulling Adam behind her she winked at Duncan. "See you later." 

"Two o'clock," he reminded them and watched as the lift went down. 

Throwing the leather coat over his shoulder, he headed to the jewelry store, checkbook in hand. 

* * *

The sun shone down on them as they walked up and down the rows of the flea market. Eva had changed her mind and decided the antique flea market would be a fine way to spend the afternoon. Occasionally, she would stop to inspect an item, but never purchased anything. Adam asked probing questions, hoping she would give something away that would let him know she indeed remembered him, but she said nothing out of the ordinary. 

"Was this the first time you'd been to Greece?" 

Shaking her head she said, "No, I go every year. There's just something about Greece I love." 

"It's a beautiful country," he said. 

"Have you been there?" She saw him nod and asked, "When was the last time you were there?" Eva stopped at a table and fingered the delicate lace. 

"A couple years ago." I was a horseman in Greece, he wanted to say. 

"Athens, Crete?" 

"No, Santorini," he said softly, remembering Alexa. 

"A beautiful island," she said. "Very peaceful and that clear blue water so inviting. I could die there." Eva noticed how he rammed his hands in his jeans and nodded. "She must have been very special." 

Methos nodded. "She was terminally ill. You'd think I would have known better." 

Placing her hand on his arm she said, "Our brains don't choose who we fall in love with. Our hearts do that for us." 

They continued walking, stopping at a few tables. The vendors weren't as knowledgeable as they appeared to be and Eva and Adam had fun exhibiting their own expertise on the 19th century furniture, housewares and the like, amazing the merchants as well as the buyers. When they happened upon a book stand, they each reached for the same book, an old leather bound book. 

"Ladies first," Eva said. With tenderness, she opened the book and turned the yellowed pages. "Lord Byron's poems." 

"Let me see." Adam accepted the book from her hand and recognized his friend's handwriting. In it he saw the poem, 'She Walks in Beauty'. "How much for the book?" he asked the old woman. 

"One hundred," she said smiling, sure that the handsome man with the big nose would buy it for his lady. 

"Deal," he said and reached for his wallet. Handing her five twenty-dollar bills, he handed the book to Eva. "A gift." 

"Adam, that wasn't necessary . . . " 

"I wanted to," he said leading her away from the table and back to the parking lot. Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear, "It's worth much more than that. The handwriting in that book really IS Byron's." 

Eva looked at Adam. "You KNEW Byron?" 

"We were close friends," he said, opening the door for her. "He was Immortal." 

Eva handed the book back to him. "Then you should keep it." 

Adam shook his head. "No. Byron would have wanted this book in the hands of a beautiful woman." 

"Beautiful? Me?" Eva shook her head. "I could never live up to that name." 

Aha! Gotcha ya! "What do you mean?" 

Glancing around the parking lot to make sure no one was near, she said, "My real name is Callista. It means beautiful. When I came to the States back in the 19th century, I decided it was time for a change. 

"Callista," he repeated. "It's a Greek name . . . " Methos revved the engine of his rental and proceeded to drive. 

Eva nodded. "I suffered some kind of amnesia after my first death. Nicklaus found me, named me Callista and taught me all I needed to know." 

"How old are you?" 

"Didn't anyone tell you it's not polite to ask a woman's age?" Smiling at him she added, "I guess it doesn't matter if I tell you. You'll just say I don't look my age." 

"That's right," he said, keeping his eyes on the road. 

"A little over 1,900. And you?" 

"We're around the same age." 

"Really? Well, we should compare notes sometimes." 

"That would be interesting. Who knows, maybe we even know some of the same people." 

"You never know." Glancing at her watch, she asked, "How much longer to Joe's?" 

"Couple more minutes," he replied. 

"Great," she said. Her eyes went to his face, studying it. Knowing she couldn't just stare she made conversation. "Tell me Adam, how long have you known Duncan." When he smiled at her, it was like a dagger in her heart, plunging deep within it, releasing emotions she couldn't understand. There was something about him that was familiar, something she could almost see, but then it fluttered away. 

"I've known him about four years." 

"Not long then." 

"No. Seems like forever though. He's a good man," he said, then added, "A Regular boy scout." 

When he parked the car, he turned to her and smiled. "Looks like MacLeod's already here," he said pointing to the T-bird. Going around to the other side of his car, he opened the door and offered his hand. "Shall we?" 

Eva put her hand in his and looked into the hazel eyes. "Yes, thank you." She felt her mouth going dry and couldn't comprehend why she felt nervous. It wasn't as if they were on a date. There was something else at work in her mind. Whatever it was, she hoped it wasn't warning her against staying away from Adam Pierson. 

* * *

The music played softly as the few customers finished their lunch. The blue lights from under the bar glowed softly. Duncan's eyes darted to the door when he felt the presence of two Immortals. He knew it must be Eva and Adam, but still it paid to be cautious. 

Turning his attention back to Joe he said, "Remember Joe, I want this to be a surprise." Hiding the box in his pocket, he took a sip of the scotch. 

The gray-haired watcher grinned, "Not a word." When Adam and Eva entered, he welcomed them. "Pierson, long time no see." To Eva he said, "You must be Eva Matthews. Joe Dawson." Shaking his hand Eva sat between Duncan and Adam. Putting her purse on the counter she said, "I can't believe one town can have so many handsome men. I think I might move here permanently." 

"You do that," Joe said, "We could use another pretty lady in town." 

"Thank you," Eva said. "How about a beer Joe?" 

"Sure thing. Two beers coming up." 

"How was the exhibit?" asked Duncan. 

"Never made it," Eva said. 

Raising an eyebrow, he looked at Adam, "Oh? Where did you go?" 

"We went to the antique flea market," Adam said, taking the beer as Joe placed it before him. Eva listened as Adam told Duncan of their little escapade with the vendors and how they found a book of Byron's poems in his handwriting. His voice was tinged with a bit of an accent, nothing she could quite place. A mixture of many countries. It was comforting and disturbing at the same time. Staring into her glass she tried focusing on his words, tried to figure out why she felt on edge. Maybe it was jet leg. The flight from Greece had been smooth, but long. She should have stayed awake last night when she arrived at the hotel. That was it. Jet lag. She heard Joe say something and the other two men laughed. Reaching for her purse, she felt someone bump into her, sending the contents spilling to the floor. 

* * *

"I'm sorry," said a voice behind her. 

"Don't worry about it," she said as she stooped down. 

"I'll help," Adam said, lowering himself off the stool and kneeling in front of Eva. 

She started to pick her lipstick and wallet, when she looked at Adam. She could only stare as the blue lights from underneath the counter danced on his face. Her hands started to tremble. 

"Eva? Are you all right?" asked Adam. 

"I think so." Laughing she said, "I have to remember that even Immortals need rest." 

Handing her the rest of the contents he asked, "Are you sure you're all right?" 

"Fine." Why did his face bathed in the blue light make her tremble? 

At that moment Claire showed up and the four took a table in a corner and ordered lunch. Eva sat against the wall, opposite Duncan. To Claire she said, "Did you take care of that emergency?" 

"As a matter of fact we did. We had a brainstorm." Smiling she said, "We have this new account, a cosmetics company. They have a new line of cosmetics geared to teenagers of color. You know, African-Americans, Asians, Hispanics. Anyway, she came up with a name for the line. Dark Beauty." 

Adam choked and looked at Eva. 

"Dark Beauty?" Duncan said. 

"It's mysterious, grown up. Girls will love it." 

Eva looked at her glass. "Sounds like it'll work." 

"I'm willing to bet on it." 

As the four ate their lunch, Claire noticed Eva picking at her plate. "Not hungry?" she asked her mother. 

"Tired. After I checked in I went straight to the dojo. I think I need a nap," she laughed. "I better get my butt to bed." 

"Claire and I will give you a ride," Duncan said. "Adam, how about joining us for dinner?" 

Methos nodded. "Sounds good." 

"Meet us at the dojo at seven." 

"Thanks for today Adam. I'll see you later." 

"You're welcome." Adam watched as the three Immortals disappeared. 

Joe appeared with another beer and sat at the table with Methos. "What's wrong old man?" 

"I need some information on Eva Matthews." 

Here we go again, thought Joe. 

* * *

Tossing and turning, Eva tried to get comfortable in the hotel bed. The suite was spacious with a sitting area, bedroom and a balcony overlooking the city. Claire and Duncan had left promising to pick up her at six thirty. She had showered and without bothering to put anything on climbed into bed and under the soft comforter. Now she couldn't get to sleep. Laying on her back, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Soon the sleep she sought came for her. 

_Eva entered the tent and momentarily looked at the man sleeping on the furs. His breathing was steady, his chest rising and falling every few seconds. Placing the white bowl on the makeshift table, she took a pomegranate from the bowl and bit into it, wondering whether she should wake him. Reaching for another fruit, a gloved hand caught her wrist._

"Save some for me," the man said. 

"I am sorry, Kronos," she said. "I didn't mean to wake you." How do I know his name? 

"Your mere presence could waken a dead man," he said, bringing her wrist to his lips. 

"I have brought food for you." Eva gently removed her wrist from his grasp. "Caspian and Silas . . . " Strange names. 

"Caspian and Silas can wait. Come lie down on the furs with me. I wish to take my pleasure of you." 

"KRONOS!" The voice bellowed in the tent. Kronos and Eva walked outside in the midmorning air. The two horsemen were gathered in front of his tent both holding the reins of a black horse. She could see a blue-face man sitting by a fire seemingly uninterestedly. His face was tilted to one side as if listening. His eyes were lowered, but Eva knew that if he looked at her they would be hazel. Of course! Eva thought. Adam. I was thinking of him before I went to bed. 

"Kronos, I have rights to this horse," said Silas. 

"Tis I who have the rights," Caspian argued. 

The leader of the horsemen twisted his face in anger. "WE ARE BROTHERS! There is no room for quarrels here! Shall I kill the animal? Would that please both of you?" 

Eva had noted Silas' soft spot when it came to animals. She had even tended to the wounds of a goat he had taken as a pet. She was sure Silas would let Caspian have the horse. The nights she spent with Methos weren't all spent on her back. He talked to her and taught her what certain body signals meant. She absorbed everything he told her, hoping one day she could use it to escape. 

Escape? Where am I? It's a dream, she told herself then relaxed. A dream. 

All were silent contemplating the animal's death. Silas spoke. "No, Caspian can have the animal. I shall take the next horse that comes along." 

"Very well." Turning to Eva, he caught her eyeing the man she thought was Adam. Wrapping his arms around her he whispered, "You will be with me tonight, woman. Methos will have to do without you." Methos? 

As soon as the flap of the tent had been closed, Kronos removed the tunic she wore and had her on her back. Eva closed her eyes and thought of the hazel-eyed man who was outside the tent. The man who brought her much pleasure. With every thrust, Eva pictured Adam. His arms, his lips, his body convulsing inside her as he spent himself. It was Adam alone who made her lose control and cry out to him when she reached the peak of her enjoyment. Why did she feel this way? She'd only met Adam this morning. Tears formed in her eyes as she felt a loss she couldn't explain. 

How much longer could she live like this? Deep inside she knew she would live like this for as long as HE wanted her in his tent. The days had been lost to her. No longer remembering how long she had been here, Eva had resigned herself that she would stay and when the moment was right, escape. Maybe Kronos would let her go when he tired of her. He won't let you go. You are Immortal. He would take your quickening before he'd ever let you go. _With four Immortals in the camp, she dared not risk running. Of late, Kronos had taken a liking to the woman they had taken two nights ago. Her hair was dark, but her eyes were the color of the sky. She would hear the woman scream sometimes and shudder. There was no hope for escape, for any of them._

When they left on one of their rides, they always left a slave to guard the women. So she stayed and put up with Kronos' assaults and the other's lovemaking. She was fortunate Silas preferred the darker-skinned women. As for Caspian, he'd shown no interest in her. Yet. It's a dream. How can I know so much about these men? Who are they? 

Kronos pumped harder. She knew it was almost over. Raking her nails on his back, she urged him with her hips and hands. He cried out and collapsed on top of her. Moments later he was asleep. She heard him muttering her name in his sleep. Duvessa. Duvessa. 

Duvessa. The name was all she would remember of the dream. I am tired, she thought. Eva sat up in the bed and grabbed her sword. It wasn't the dream that had awakened her but the presence of an Immortal. "Who is it?" she asked as the person knocked on her door. 

"It's Adam. Duncan and Claire got delayed. I'm your escort back to the dojo." 

Eva threw the sword on the bed and put on her robe. "Just a sec." Reaching the door she opened it and smiled. "Come in. I didn't realize it was that late. I overslept." Admiring his lean form in the black jeans and ivory sweater, she closed the door behind him. "Have a seat." 

Sitting on the sofa, he looked around the hotel suite. "Pretty fancy," he said. 

"What can I say? Twenty-four room service, a gym, massages, I'm used to the best." _'.... your best tonight'. 'Yes, Methos.'_ Eva felt sick. She could feel the bile climbing up to her throat. What was wrong with her? First at the bar and now this. It was as if she were wearing headphones and they were turned really low so she could barely hear the words. 

"Eva, what's wrong?" Adam saw her go pale. 

"I don't know. I feel so sick . . . " He caught her before she fell and picking her up placed her on the bed. 

"I'll get you some water." Adam returned quickly with a cold glass. "Here." 

Taking a sip she said, "I seem to be getting these little flashes of memory, only I don't remember them." 

"Do you remember anything?" 

Closing her eyes, the name popped into her head, "Duvessa. Someone was calling me Duvessa." 

Duvessa. He hadn't said that name in centuries. How was it possible she didn't remember? Joe might have some answers for him, but it wouldn't be until morning, when Eva's Watcher would report to Headquarters. 

"Adam?" 

"Yes?" 

"You were in the dream. At least I think it was you . . . I only remember bits of it." 

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure it will come to you. Feel better?" 

Nodding, she handed him the glass. "Better. But I'm not in the mood to go out." 

"I'll go then . . . " 

She grabbed his wrist. "Can you stay? We can order in." 

Methos saw the plea in her eyes and wanted to run out the door. "I can stay." 

"Good." Eva ordered room service, called Claire to let her know she was bowing out of dinner with them and an hour later they were eating and talking as if they were old friends. Adam, of course, absorbing every movement, every word she spoke, anything that might betray her knowledge of him and what they were to each other. 

"I can't believe I ate all that. I'm stuffed," she said. 

"Nothing like good food and cold beer," he said leaning back into the sofa, the beer in his hand. 

Eva's eyes wandered to his lean legs and up to his sweater-clad chest. "Adam?" Even as she said his name, they both knew what her next move would be. Would he turn her down knowing all that he knew, knowing all that she didn't know? 

"Yes?" 

Walking around the table she knelt in front of him, took the glass from his hand and placed it on the table. Her hands caressed his thighs. She felt him shiver beneath her touch, felt her own body start to react. 

"Eva . . . " 

Her hands continued their ascension, lightly grazing his inner thighs. "Adam, I want you. It sounds crazy, but I've had this feeling all afternoon . . . " Raising herself, she straddled him and placed a tender kiss on his neck. 

"We can't . . . I can't . . . " he stammered. He couldn't take her to bed knowing what she had been to him and if she knew she would take his head. 

"Is there someone else?" she asked looking into his eyes. 

"No . . . but . . . " 

Her lips didn't let him finish as they moved over his parted mouth. Oh gods, they were still as soft as he remembered them. "I can't . . . " 

Tangling her hands in his hair she explored his mouth and moaned when she felt him respond with his own exploration. His hands went to her back, pulling her closer. Her lips found his neck leaving a trail of kisses. Adam felt her tongue flick over his Adam's apple and he moaned. 

Eva felt his manhood bulging underneath her and her hands sought its release. Breaking the kiss, she sought his belt and undid it. Unbuttoning his jeans, her hands slipped inside to feel the velvety hardness of his desire. Looking into his eyes, she knew he would not turn away from her now. 

Methos undid the belt to her robe, opened it and let if fall to the floor. His mere examination of her bare flesh sent shivers through her body. Moving his hands to her lower belly, he slid his palms upward slowly, then cupped the full globes he had thought he would never touch again. His fingers lightly brushed against her nipples until she couldn't help but arch her back, bringing them closer to him. Closing her eyes, she felt his mouth where his hands had been. The heat of his tongue on her coupled with the length of him pressing against her was almost too much to bear. Stifling a moan, she cupped his head in her hands and sought his lips. 

Maneuvering them so that he was beneath her, he stood and rid himself of his clothes. Eva's eyes darkened as she saw his bare chest, firm and muscular and his long, lean legs. "Adam, please." 

Moving over her, he found her mouth again, his hands gliding over every inch of silken skin. Her thighs quivered under his fingers and when she opened her legs to receive him he knew that there was no turning back. Whatever the consequences, he would deal with them later. 

* * *

Cursing, Claire slammed the phone back in its cradle. Worry had turned to anger when Eva hadn't picked up the phone after her fifth time of trying to reach her. "Where is she?" 

"Claire, come back to bed. Maybe she and Adam decided to . . . " 

"Don't say it Duncan MacLeod! Eva wouldn't . . . I mean . . . " The thought that her MOTHER would sleep with a man she just met was unthinkable. 

"Claire, she's a grown woman. Besides, I'm sure IF she did this wasn't her first time." Duncan tried to reason with her, but it was no use. 

"I'm worried. Maybe I should go to the hotel . . . " 

"Look, if you go there and she is . . . uh . . . busy . . . you'll just embarrass both of you. Let it keep til tomorrow morning." 

He was right, she thought. Eva was a grown woman. "All right. Only until morning." Climbing into bed she placed her head on his chest. "I still don't she would you know." 

Smiling, Duncan said, "You're probably right." To himself he said, "Way to go Methos." 

* * *

Methos lay beside Eva, her head on his chest, black hair cascading down her back. Their lovemaking had been fierce and tender at the same time. It was just as he remembered. Her skin soft and willing against his hands, her cries of pleasure in his ears. Damn, what have I done? 

"Adam, you don't have to stay," she said, looking at him. 

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. 

"No, I don't. But you don't have to stay if you don't want to." 

"Shhh, go to sleep. I want to stay." Heaven help me, but I do want to stay. Her leg moved on top of his as she snuggled closer to him. Her breath was warm on his chest and he wanted nothing more than to love her again. His hand ran up and down her spine gently and he heard her sigh. He played with her hair, watching as the curls wrapped themselves around his fingers just like she had wrapped her arms and legs around him. Eva's breaths were slow and steady, signaling she had fallen asleep. When he placed a kiss on top of her head, he heard her mutter his name. 

"Methos," she whispered. 

At the sound of his ancient name coming from her lips he closed his eyes and prayed that she would never remember their past. 

* * *

His eyes opened and instantly he reached for her, but her side of the bed had grown cold, telling him that she had been gone a while. Running a hand through his rumpled hair, he swore under his breath. Flinging off the covers, he went to the bathroom and saw her note taped to the mirror. 

Adam, 

I didn't want to wake you, but I had to run a few errands. Thanks for staying last night. 

Eva 

Adam crumbled the paper and tossed it in the wastebasket. Looking at his reflection, he began to reason with himself. "She doesn't remember you. Besides you were a different person back then. You never forced her to stay, she came to you willingly. Last night SHE seduced you, not the other way around." It wasn't working. 

Not bothering to shower he dressed and thought about leaving her a note. No, no note. No sense in making her think something more happened last night than sex. 'It was more. You know it was.' "Shut up!" he yelled to the empty room. Grabbing his coat from the chair, he tossed it back. "I can't do this to her again, even if she doesn't remember." 

_**Horsemen's Camp**_

_The four horsemen rode into their camp triumphant. They called to the two male slaves to take their horses. Caspian dismounted quickly and pulled the young woman off the horse, dragging her behind him. She screamed all the way to his tent, but there was no one to help her. Silas motioned for two of the women he favored to wait in his tent._

The three new women would learn soon enough that it was better not to fight. They had all been broken. Their will and pride crushed underneath the grunts and thrusts of the horsemen. Methos saw Kronos drag the other two new women and pushing one in his direction said, "Enjoy the spoils, brother." 

Methos looked down at the woman, her eyes filled with hate. When once he would have taken her and tamed her, he had no desire to break her spirit. Let one of the others do it, he thought. Pointing to one of the tents he said, "Go to the women's tent. Someone will tend to your cuts." Uncertainty crossed her face. Offering his hand, he helped her off the ground. "Go." The woman ran to the tent and Methos saw the flap open for her. The others no doubt would tell her what she could expect. 

Approaching his tent, he detected the presence of an Immortal. Entering he saw her preparing he water bowl for him. He watched as her hands dipped in the cloth and wrung it out. She ould not speak until he spoke first. Sitting, he waited for her to tend to him. 

Duvessa knelt in front of him and removed the leather cuffs from his wrists. Undoing the ties from his shirt, she paused, waiting for him to remove it. 

"Remove it," he said. 

Duvessa looked into the blue-painted face and nodded. Lifting the shirt over his head, she left it in a white puddle next to the cuffs. Taking the cloth from the bowl, she wrung it out and moved it across his chest. Methos watched as her hands moved up and down his arms, washing off the dried blood. His hands reached for her dark hair, shiny and soft, it curled in his fingers. Her brown eyes looked into his and they each felt the other's need. Duvessa removed her caftan and lay on the furs, offering her body to him. He felt his groin grow heavy with desire. 

Removing his leggings, he lowered himself on top of her, his mouth seeking hers in urgency. Her hands moved over his back, legs wrapped around his and in a quick movement that startled him, she rolled them over so she was sitting astride him. Her hair fell over his face as she rained kisses on his throat and chest. Staring into his eyes, her hand went between them and she guided him inside her, gasping when his thickness penetrated her and sighing when he began to move deep inside her. His hands reached for her breasts, kneading the already hardened nipples. Duvessa threw her head back, moving with him, savoring every thrust. 

The shouts coming from outside broke the spell they had been under. They heard the screams of the women and orders being barked by Kronos. Methos flung her aside and dressed quickly, grabbing his sword. 

Methos watched with morbid fascination as the six men on horses set upon their destruction. One of the men set the supplies tent aflame. Then he saw women's tent go up in flames and saw Duvessa run toward it. 

The women in the tent screamed as the inferno consumed their flesh. Duvessa tried to get near the tent, but the heat and smoke forbade the attempt. 

Methos shouted a warning to Caspian, but it was too late. He saw Caspian fall as the attacker plunged a dagger in his chest. 

Running toward Kronos' tent was one of the men. Methos saw him go in and come out with a woman in his arms. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and she was sobbing. He paused. These men were her people and they had come to get her back. How was that possible? They had killed all the men in the village two days ago. The man paused when he saw Duvessa. "You gave yourself willingly didn't you? You will die with them!" he shouted. Placing the woman on the ground he ran toward Duvessa, sword thrust forward. 

Methos' attention was momentarily distracted when he was attacked. He swiftly ended his enemy's life. He turned in time to see Duvessa stumble backward as the man withdrew his sword from her midsection. The blood seeped between her fingers and before she died, she saw Methos slit the man's throat, then saw the blue-eyed woman raising an ax at Methos' back. 

Her blow had killed him and when he awoke he saw her raising her sword at Duvessa's head. Methos crawled in their direction and grabbed the woman's ankle, pulling her down. The sword fell from her hands and she screamed. Methos grabbed her throat and squeezed it, enjoyed watching as her face turned red then blue. "She is MINE!" he yelled at her as she died. Releasing her, she fell with a thud to the ground. Methos went to Duvessa and cradled her head in his lap, waiting for her to revive. Seeing the destruction of the camp, he wondered where Kronos had gone. Gently placing her on the ground, he stood and surveyed the camp. He saw Caspian on the ground with the dagger still buried in his chest. Silas was nowhere to be found. The smoke rose into the air and with it the smell of burnt flesh. 

"Kronos!" He stepped over two of the invaders and just out of habit, kicked one in the ribs. "Kronos!" It was obvious Kronos was not here. Had he fled? Or had he been taken. Only five of the six were dead. Maybe the other had chased Kronos out of the camp. The thought entered his mind quickly. Now is your chance. Leave and be done with it. Seeing his horse several feet away, he looked at Duvessa one last time, her body still not moving. "You're better off," he said and ran to the white horse. 

* * *

Eva pushed the button on the elevator and leaned back against the elevator wall as the doors closed. I'm crazy, she thought. How could I have done that? What if he's still there? What do I say to him? She felt his presence and her heart lurch. "Relax. You're acting like a teenager. You've had men in you bed before. Relax." 

Licking her lips, she took a deep breath and released it. "Here we go." Sliding the card key in the slot, she opened the door and smiled. Her smile faded as she saw the buzz she felt had not been Adam's. 

"Nick?" Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" Eva's eyes skimmed over his tall lean figure in the Armani suit. Always the best for him. 

"Is that any way to greet your husband?" 

Eva threw the card key on the desk. "Ex-husband, remember?" She walked to where he sat on the sofa and smiled. "What brings you here? Surely, not me?" Nick Palous stood and embraced her. 

"As a matter of fact it is you," he said, breathing in the scent of her hair. His lips touched her neck and she pushed him away. "You always did look beautiful in red." 

"Nick, please don't start." Where was Adam? She saw a folded paper on the table and reached for it. 

"He's gone," Nick said. "Says he'll call you later." 

"You read it?" 

Shrugging he said, "Hey, it was just lying there. Besides, I still have a vested interest in you." 

"Oh?" Eva sat opposite him in the arm chair and looked into his dark eyes. 

"Callista . . . " 

"It's Eva." 

"Eva, I still love you." 

Eva waved her hand in protest. "It was over centuries ago, Nick. Let it go. Why now? What . . . " His eyes always gave him away. There was something he wasn't telling her. Sitting on the coffee table, she took his hands. "Tell me." Her eyes caught a shadow and she looked at his wrist. "Tattoo?" 

"Never mind the tattoo. Someone's been asking about you," he said. 

"About me? Who?" 

"Do you know Joe Dawson?" 

"Yes I know him. Nick what is going on? How do you know Dawson and why would he ask about me? And to who was he asking questions to?" 

The time had come to tell her the truth. His hand touched her face in the softest of caresses. "I should have told you a long time ago. I...I didn't know what it would do to you. I thought it was best to . . . " 

"Nick, what are you talking about?" Nick's face twisted in pain. She knew whatever it was he had to say had been burdening him for centuries. "Tell me." 

"I..." 

"It might be Claire," she said apologizing. Nick watched her grab the phone. 

"Duncan, I'm kind of busy right now . . . what?....I guess . . . we'll be right there . . . a friend . . . yes . . . see you in a few." Hanging up the phone, she turned to Nick. "Well seems Dawson's at MacLeod's, so is Claire and Adam. They need to see me right away." 

"Eva, don't. Not yet . . . " 

"Nick, I love you, but you are NOT my husband anymore. Come with me and you can meet Claire and the new man in her life. Dawson's there, I can ask him directly why he's so interested in me." Offering her hand, she said, "Come on. On the way you can tell me all about that tattoo on your wrist." 

Taking her hand, he wondered what would be the consequence of this meeting. What the hell was Dawson up to? 

* * *

Claire slammed the cabinets in the kitchen, making her irritation known to the three men. Dawson had shown up with Adam and the three men had whispered while she was preparing lunch. When asked they said it was best to wait until Eva got there. She flung the pots in the sink and marched into the living room. 

"I want to know what is going on, NOW!" Claire's green eyes burned into the three men on the sofa. 

"Claire, it's best to wait until your mother gets here," Duncan said softly. 

"NO! I will take her out of here if you don't tell me what is going on!" 

Duncan looked at Adam then at Dawson and nodded. "Joe?" 

"There's an organization of men and women who know about Immortals . . . " 

"YOU know about us? How?...." 

"Please, we don't have much time. These men and women are called Watchers. They record the lives of Immortals, but never interfere." What a crock? Joe thought. How many times had he interfered on behalf of MacLeod? "Every Immortal is assigned a Watcher. They follow the Immortal wherever he or she may go. We keep Chronicles of their lives." 

"What has this to do with Eva?" she asked. 

"Adam here . . . " 

"How did I know YOU were involved in this?" she said to Adam. 

He shrugged. "Women's intuition?" 

Ignoring him she said, "Okay, so we are all assigned an Immortal. This organization knows about Immortals. How does HE tie into this?" 

Joe cleared his throat. "Adam?" 

"I knew your mother a long time ago." 

Claire arched a perfectly shaped brow. "Really? It doesn't look that way." 

"She doesn't remember." 

"Maybe you just weren't very memorable," she snickered. Crossing her arms, she went to Adam. "Maybe you were so bad in bed she CHOSE to forget . . . " 

"Claire . . . " warned Duncan. "Let's not . . . " 

"It's all right Mac." To Claire he smiled and said, "If I wasn't memorable then I might be now." 

"You are . . . " Her cell phone rang for the fourth time that morning. She regretted having turned it on, but the business took precedent over anything at the moment. She spoke as she walked to the kitchen. More problems, she sighed. "Sandra, can't you handle it?.....I see . . . Fine . . . I'll be there in ten minutes." Claire pulled her jacket on. "I'll be back as soon as I can." 

"Claire, can it wait?" asked Duncan. 

"It can't. Duncan, if all of this is true . . . it must have been something big to make her forget." 

Duncan agreed. "We'll wait for you to get back." He kissed her forehead and walked her to the lift. "Hurry back." 

"I'll try." Claire narrowed her eyes at Adam before entering the lift. As the elevator droned its way down, she wondered what could have caused Eva to forget her past. How much of it had she forgotten? What role did Pierson play in her mother's life? There were so many questions that needed answering. If her mother did have some sort of amnesia, what had been the cause of it? What did it matter at this point? When the lift stopped, Claire exited and headed to her car, the latest problem at the office in mind. She wished Sandra was more independent. What could be so urgent to call her away on a Saturday afternoon? 

Claire started the Mustang and roared away, leaving a white cloud behind. 

* * *

Nick looked at his wife . . . ex-wife as she often reminded him. His six-foot one frame towered over hers, making her appear like a child. She was so fragile and didn't even know it. He wondered who this *Adam* person was and how he knew Dawson. 

"Nick, please behave," she said as they entered the elevator. 

"Don't I always?" he asked. 

Eva looked into his brown eyes, sly as ever, his face perfectly carved and those lips that had driven her to ecstasy over and over again. "No, you don't." 

"I will, I promise," he said, winking. 

* * *

"Where is her Watcher Joe? I thought you said he'd be in this morning?" Adam asked, his lean form against the back of the sofa, while his worn out boots rested on the coffee table. 

"He's late as usual. Mike will call as soon as he's dropped off the books." 

Duncan walked passed Methos, pushing his feet off the table. "Where did you know her from Adam? Or do I even want to know?" 

Joe noticed how the two Immortals' eyes went to the lift. "Eva?" 

"And friend," said Duncan. 

The lift stopped and Eva came out first, followed by Nick. Joe stood and walked over to them. "Nick? You're Immortal?" 

Eva walked passed the four men. "Where is Claire?" 

"A problem at the office," Duncan said. "Eva, please sit." 

"I'd rather not." Facing Joe she said, "I hear you've been asking questions about me. What is it you want to know?" Eva looked in his eyes and saw concern. Looking from Duncan to Adam and Nick, she raised her hands in defeat. "Okay, I give up. Why are the three of you looking at me like I've just lost my head?" 

"Eva, please sit," Adam said. 

"No, I won't. What is going on here? Nick?" Eva looked at the man who had been her husband for two centuries. "Nick?" 

"Please Eva, sit." Nick took her hand and led her to the leather couch. There was an uncomfortable silence as the others waited for him to begin. "Eva, do you remember when I found you?" 

"Yes, of course I do. Nick, what is it? What are you trying to tell me?" Looking at Adam she asked, "Do you know what this is about?" 

"I think it's better if Nick explains." 

Joe cleared his throat. "Maybe you should start with the Watchers." Nick nodded. 

"You asked about the tattoo . . . " 

"Is this what this is about? The tattoo?" Laughing, she rose from her seated position. "Okay, what's so special about that tattoo?" 

Joe limped toward her and showed her his wrist. Eva frowned when she saw the circle with the ram-like horns. "So you belong to the same club or something right? Is that it?" 

Nick sighed. "Eva, these tattoos are worn by Watchers. It's a secret organization . . . " 

Duncan tuned him out. How many times did he have to here this story today? Secret organization . . . record . . . don't interfere . . . blah blah blah. He sat in the chair and watched Eva's reaction. He recalled how Cochrane had lost his memory due to the fact he had taken his student's head in a fit of anger. He'd finally remembered and had fled Paris devastated at his actions. Would Eva remember anything? How did Methos tie into all of this? 

"You're telling me that there are people who follow us around and record everything we do?" 

"That's it in a nutshell," Joe said. 

"And Nick, you are one of these people . . . these Watchers? Why? Surely not to gain the advantage . . . ?" 

"No. I'm YOUR Watcher, Eva. I needed to keep track of you . . . " 

"What? You needed to keep track of me?" she cried. "How dare you?" 

"There's more." 

"More? MORE!? What else? Damn you Nick. It was over a long time ago. You are my EX-husband! Why would you do this? I thought you respected me more than that!" The pain in her voice emanated in the loft. Nick's betrayal was not the worst of it, she knew that. Could she tolerate any more? "I don't want to hear any more. You will cease and desist this Watcher crap!" Eva headed to the lift, but was stopped by a firm grip. "Adam, let go of me!" 

"NO! You need to hear the rest of it," he said. "Those dreams you've been having . . . " 

"What do you know of my dreams, Adam? We just met yesterday. Just because I took you into my bed gives you no right to manhandle me!" Looking at each man she shook her head. "What makes you men think you can control everyone and everything? You put too much emphasis on that _brain_ you carry between your legs. It has its uses, but it's not the end all to everything." Stomping on Adam's foot, she pulled away her arm when he yelped. "I'm leaving and I expect not to be followed." 

Adam held her back again. "Eva, you have to listen to what he has to say. It could mean your life, your sanity," he said softly. The gods help me when you do remember. 

"Fine! What is it that all four of you are so concerned about? Is it an Immortal?" Eva shook her head and growled in frustration when the phone rang. "Duncan, don't you ever shut that thing off?" 

"Sorry," he said and picked it up on the third ring. "Yes, hold on." Holding out the phone he said, "It's for you Eva." 

"For me?" When she put the phone to her ear, her hand clenched the receiver. "I'll be there." 

"What is it?" asked Duncan. 

"An Immortal says she has Claire." 

* * *

The warehouse was large and empty. Claire wiggled in the chair trying to loosen the ropes. The more she struggled the tighter they became. How could she have been so stupid? Her mother had taught her better than that. The gag cut into her mouth and she could taste blood, her blood. Why hadn't she mentioned Sandra's Immortality to anyone? 

She should have known better than to go to the office without her sword. Sandra had counted on that. What was her plan? She had seen her call someone, but who? Duncan? The clap clap of footsteps made Claire sit straight. If she was going to lose her head, she would not cry or plead. She would die a warrior, just like Eva had taught her. 

"She's on her way. That whore of a mother you have. At last, I will get revenge. Tell me, did she ever tell you about how she willingly gave herself to the barbarians?" Sandra undid the handkerchief from her mouth. Claire coughed and shook her head. "Is that a no? Well, let me tell you. She was a human mattress for them. Willingly spread her legs for them, while they pounded into her night after night." 

"I can't believe that . . . " 

"It's true. I was there. She enjoyed it. They took her from her village, like they did me and she enjoyed every advance, every filthy thing they did to her body." 

Claire watched as Sandra hit her own head. "Sandra, I don't understand . . . " 

"How could you? Do you know what it's like to be humiliated, to be made to submit to a man's lust? For two nights he raped me over and over again, when he was done he would let the other have me. That one was cruel. He would take his dagger and break my skin open to watch me bleed, then he would take me." 

"I'm sorry, but what does Eva . . . " 

"Eva! Ha! Do you know what they would do? They would call us slave and dog everything but our given name. If they took a special liking to you, they would give you a name. Your MOTHER received a name. Duvessa, dark beauty. Did you know that? Dark beauty. How appropriate! While the rest of us suffered your mother sunk into the depths of these animals. Not caring, not helping any of us! Wanting them to take her!" 

"What could she have done?" Claire asked. Her mother was a survivor, that she knew. At all costs keep your head, Eva had said. If these things were true, her mother had certainly paid a price. 

"She was Immortal!" 

"Precisely," she reasoned. "She was Immortal. They would have taken her head." 

Sandra dropped to her knees. "The point is she prostituted herself to save her head. She enjoyed IT!" 

"That was her choice . . . " 

"Yes, it was her choice. But it wasn't mine! They ripped my maidenhood away from me and left me bleeding as they took me over and over again. She will have to pay for what I lost." 

Claire dropped her head and lost consciousness as the hilt of Sandra's sword made contact with it. 

* * *

Her eyes opened and she gasped as life entered her body again. She killed me! "Oh, my head," she said. As her breathing returned to normal, she felt the presence of an Immortal. "Sandra?" 

"Shhh!" 

"Mom?" her voice cracked when she heard Eva's voice. 

"I'm here sweetie," Eva said, her eyes darting about in the dark. Dropping to one knee, she undid the bonds that kept her daughter from moving. "Get out." 

"So soon Duvessa?" The lights came on, temporarily blinding mother and daughter. 

"My name is Eva. I don't know you!" 

"Think back to the horsemen's camp. I'm sure it will come to you." 

Eva's eyes never left Sandra. The woman was about her height, with short brown hair and the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen. Eyes that seemed too old for her young face. "I don't know who you think I am . . . " 

"You're a whore! I've come for my revenge and you will not deny me it." Eva pushed Claire as Sandra speeded toward her. 

"Claire, get out!" 

Legs running as fast as they could, Claire ran out of the warehouse, turning back only once in time to see her mother raise her sword. 

* * *

"Look, someone's coming out!" shouted Nick. 

"Claire!" Duncan ran to meet her, embracing her and dragging toward the car. When the quickening took place, there would be major damage to the warehouse, and anything that stood in its way. 

"What's happening? Who is this Immortal?" asked Nick. He'd been pacing the length of the car since Eva had gone inside. He knew she was a skilled swordsman and fighter, hell, she'd been his teacher, torturing him through hours and hours of lessons so that he would keep his head intact. It hadn't been that long ago since she'd taken a head. Four months actually, but . . . 

"That was too short! It's too short!" cried Claire, trying to release herself from Duncan's arms. 

Glass shattered and exploded as someone received a quickening. They could see flashes of lightning as it hit its target. The cries from inside the warehouse were pitiful. All four Immortals new the feeling of taking an enemy's head, their thoughts and feelings coursing through your body, feeling their hate for you, seeing what they had experienced in their life. It was like being pushed head first into the ocean, the water filling your lungs and you're helpless to stop it. The feeling of death about to claim you only to push you up to the surface and letting you live. 

It would last about a minute, then the winner would come out, head hung low as they carried the power, knowledge and strength of the dead Immortal. 

The cries ceased and everything was calm once more. Nick started inside and Adam held him back. "Wait . . . look," he said, pointing to the entrance. 

"She's alive, she's alive," Claire said and cried on Duncan's shoulder. 

"NO!" Eva cried as she fell to the ground. Holding her head, she willed the memories to stop. "No, no, no, no!" She doubled over and began to vomit. "This is holy ground! Stop!" _I wish to take my pleasure of you._ "NO!" _You willingly gave yourself didn't you. You will die with them! His name is Ciro . . . wants me . . . challenged me . . . if there's no one sharing your tent . . . Methos . . . Kronos . . . this is holy ground._ "We cannot fight here! No! No!" 

"Eva, it's all right," Nick reached for her and she crawled away in fear. 

"No, don't touch me!" _Don't touch me! Kronos grabbed her by the throat and squeezed hard. "How many times do you wish to die?"_ "Please, please . . . " _It's against the rules! This is holy ground!_

"Duncan, what's wrong with her?" 

"She's remembering, Claire." 

Nick approached her again, walking slowly toward her. Her body was curled into a ball and she sobbed into the ground, the memories terrorizing her. "Callista, it's me Nick. Look at me." 

He wanted to go to her, but if she was remembering, his might be the face to push her over the edge. So Adam just watched as Eva cried, her hands over her ears, trying to stop the images of her past. 

"No, no, no, no." 

"I'm here. So is Claire. You're all right. Everything is all right," he said softly. When he reached her, he took her in his arms and gently lifted her. 

Eva looked into the dark eyes. "Nick, she wanted me to take her head. She wanted me to feel her pain. Nick what have I done? What have I done?" With Sandra's quickening, not only did she have the dead woman's memories of her life with the horsemen, but she had her own as well. She remembered how she had welcomed Methos' hands on her body, how she had craved him. She could live with that. It had been a matter of survival. The one memory that threatened her sanity was that of Pompeii, 79 A.D. The day Ciro came for her and challenged her on holy ground. 

* * *

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Claire looked at her mother one more time and closed the door. She listened for a moment and went downstairs. What the hell had happened to her mother after the quickening? Nick seemed to know, but would he tell her with Duncan and Adam present? Would he tell her what had Eva up in the bed rocking herself back and forth like a child? 

"Claire, how is she?" asked Nick. The three men were gathered around the table, coffee served and growing cold. Nick had filled Duncan and Adam in on the events leading up to today. He told them about Ciro, a young, foolish Immortal who thought taking Eva's ancient head on holy ground would make him a god. Now it was time to tell Claire. 

"Still the same. Nick, what the hell happened? What is wrong with my mother?" Sitting next to him, she took her hands in his. "Please tell me." Nick just stared at her. She saw Adam's head in his hands. "Adam? What do you know about this? What was she saying about fighting on holy ground?" 

"Like I said, I knew her way before she ever met Nick. This has nothing to do with me," he said, knowing he sounded defensive. 

"I can't believe you! My mother is upstairs . . . a...a..basket case and your still . . . " 

"Claire," Duncan said, "Whatever went on between your mother and Adam has nothing to do with this. It's a whole separate issue. Let Nick tell you . . . " 

"I'm sorry. It's just . . . she's always been so strong . . . " 

"I know that better than anyone else," Nick said. 

"Tell me what happened." 

"Your mother was my teacher. I met her in 60 A.D.," he began. "I had died the first time at the hands of a rival over a woman's affection. Callista had already lived over 3,000 years. After three years of training, she sent me on my way. In 74 A.D. we met again in Pompeii. It was a wealthy part of Italy, with either very rich citizens, or very poor slaves. It was only about two miles across, with Mt. Vesuvius looming large." 

"Nick, are you saying that Eva is over 5,000 years old? How could she forget something like that?" asked Claire. 

"Let me finish," Nick said. Staring into the cold cup in his hands, he could see the streets of Pompeii. 

_**Pompeii, 79 A.D.**_ * 

_The streets of Pompeii were laid out in a grid format, with a central square. The city had two theaters, luxurious public baths, and temples. The streets were made of stone and so were the edges of pavements._

People came in and out of the many public baths and lavatories. Nick took in the houses, which were low, no more than two stories. It pleased him that his home was on the main street, where the wealthy lived. He'd worked hard to provide for Callista. Although she didn't need him to provide, he insisted that he would take care of every necessity she might need. He insisted that Callista have a few slaves, and she had resisted at first, but had conceded. 

He smiled when he passed the baker's shop and waved at the owner. Pompeii was indeed a thriving city. 

Upon reaching the entry to his courtyard, he felt his wife's presence. Slowly he entered and saw her driving her sword into an invisible enemy. He knew that could only mean one thing . . . someone had paid her a visit. 

"That was Ciro?" Claire asked. 

"She told me he'd challenged her, but was waiting. For what, I don't know." Nick went to fridge and helped himself to a beer. "A few days later she had gone to collect some herbs at an abandoned temple. He followed her there . . . " 

"Holy ground. It's against the rules of the Game. Why would he do that?" The question hung in the air. There was no logical answer. The rules forbade fighting on holy ground. That was the one rule no Immortal would dare to break or so she thought. 

"He thought it would make him a god," Nick sneered. "Ciro thought he could actually win against Callista. If he'd taken the time to get to know her, he would have known that when it came to keeping her head, she was hell itself." 

Duncan looked at Adam and realized the woman Nick described was not the one he had known. Thoughts of Cassandra and her rage at the 5,000-year-old Immortal came to his mind. She'd been willing to take Methos' head without a second's thought. Was it possible Eva had been a prisoner of his as well? 

"What happened when he confronted her?" 

"I'm not really sure. I showed up after the fighting had begun. She kept trying to reason with him. Telling him they couldn't fight on holy ground. Ciro just laughed. For a moment I thought she would just let him take her head, but it is our instinct to defend it at all costs. And that's what she did." 

_**Pompeii, 79A.D.**_

An Abandoned Temple 

"This is holy ground! Are you insane?" Callista asked, circling him, not wanting to get near the laughing Immortal. 

"I'm as sane as the next person. I will take your head and be a god!" The large man advanced, wielding his sword, trying to land a strike on her body. She was short and weighed less which was to her advantage. His big body was too slow. 

"We can't fight here!" 

Ciro paid no heed to her cries. He lunged at his unwilling opponent. It didn't matter. All he wanted was her head, her glorious ancient head that would make him a god. Her sword came down to block his blow. She stared into his eyes and he smiled. "Say your prayers. I will be the victor!" 

Ciro lunged. Callista sidestepped him, his sword almost searing her chest. She was on the defensive, blocking his thrusts and blows, still not believing he would break this rule. The moment she felt the other Immortal it cost her. She saw Nicklaus heading toward them. Once more she pleaded with Ciro. "We cannot fight here!" The cut to her thigh burned as the steel made contact. He swung his sword down. Callista brought her blade down so they were locked. 

"I will be the victor!" he yelled, removing his sword. 

"Like hell you will," she said, resigned to the fact that this man was insane. The battle would continue with or without her. Callista's elbow hit him in the nose and they both heard the cracking of the bone. She shoved him back with all her strength and he stumbled back. Looking up at the sky, she said, "Forgive me, but I have no choice." 

Callista gathered up all her strength and energy and fought like the warrior she was. Ciro blocked her blows, suddenly aware that she was not one who would go down easy. His only hope was that she would tire quickly, then he could take his prize. 

He was shocked when her sword pierced his chest. He managed to land his blade on her arm, but she was definitely the more experienced combatant. She managed to land several more blows, leaving him bleeding, but the damage was not serious enough to kill. 

The sun was almost above them. It is almost midday, she thought. I should be tending to the merchants now. 

Ciro cried out in anger and advanced. He saw the woman stand very still, then lower her sword. "You can't do it can you? Your honor won't let you kill on holy ground!" He swung his blade at her head, confident that in a moment he would be a god and rule over millions. 

Callista ducked and as she did so, she sliced his mid-section, landing gracefully on one knee. Ciro's hand went to his mid-section and watched as the covered his fingers. She again went to him, hoping to strike another blow that would kill him temporarily, long enough for her to get away from the temple grounds. As she swung her sword, he laughed and dropped to his knees. She wasn't quick enough to stop her sword from severing his head. "Nooooooooooo!" 

"Callista!" cried Nick horrified at what he'd seen. The Immortal had fallen to his knees, knowing the blow meant for his mid-section would remove his head from his body. The first white crackles of electricity left his body and moved toward Callista. 

The sun was high and hot on this day, the 24th of August. The bolts racked her body and when it finally stopped she heard a loud noise as a tall column rose from Mt. Vesuvius. Nicklaus ran to her, picked her up and ran. 

Pompeii was bombarded with poisonous gas and fumes. Hot ashes, stones and cinders rained down on the citizens of Pompeii. The debris increased in thickness at a rate of six to eight inches per hour. Stones up to three inches in diameter rocketed toward Pompeii at speeds of 100 miles an hour, collapsing roofs and causing injuries. 

People scattered to their homes, hoping the debris would end. 

After several hours of activity, the eruption gained in strength and the ash column grew higher in altitude. Rubble fell for five more hours and by the next morning, almost two yards of ash and pumice-covered Pompeii. Avalanches of lava raced down the slopes, destroying everything in its path. Within minutes, Pompeii was destroyed. 

Nick focused on the cup in his hand. "It was horrible. All those people . . . children . . . " 

"How did you get away?" 

"Sheer luck. I figured we should get to the water, so we ran to the bay. At that time a Roman fleet under the command of Pliny the Elder was stationed across the bay. He launched ships and sailed toward the volcano for a closer look. We saw the ships and dove into the water. Pliny himself died during the eruption. Callista and I swam as long as we could. We drowned. Fortunately, we were Immortal. Several days later we were washed up on the shores of Misenum. Callista didn't remember any of it. Didn't know who she was, didn't know who I was . . . " 

"You never told her." Claire shook her head. "Why did you decide to tell her now? If it weren't for the quickening, she would never have remembered." 

"That's where I come in," Adam volunteered. 

"I can't wait to hear this," she said. 

"Your mother was starting to remember . . . about me. I thought it was a game she was playing at first . . . " 

"Why would she pretend?" Claire's eyes never wavered from Adam. "Revenge. You thought she wanted revenge." 

"I didn't know what she would have in mind." 

"That didn't stop you from . . . " Claire stopped. "Never mind. Right now, my ONLY concern is her mental state." There was no room for pettiness. Nick and Adam might be the only two who could bring her mother back and make her deal with the fact that she killed on holy ground. "I'm going to check on her." 

Claire climbed the stairs swiftly and turned the knob, peering in. The bed was empty. "Eva, where are you?" Claire looked under the bed, in the closet and the bathroom. Her mother was gone. "EVA!" 

Her screams brought the men upstairs. "What's going on?" asked Duncan. 

"She's gone Duncan. Eva is gone!" 

Duncan searched the room again, but knew it was futile. Eva Matthews had disappeared, in what sort of condition, he didn't want to know. 

"We have to find her," she cried. "She can't defend herself." Duncan pulled her to him and soothed her with soft words. Nick had already left in search of his ex-wife. Methos stared out the window and up at the stars. 

"Adam?" he asked, "Where would she go?" 

Methos stared at the glittering jewels in the sky. He remembered the many nights he would awaken to find her sitting outside his tent, staring at them. She'd made a game of trying to count them when she couldn't sleep. When, he thought, she contemplated death over staying at Horsemen's camp one more day. He would sit next to her and she would smile at him. How he had betrayed her that last day at the camp, leaving her to make her own way to safety. 

"Adam?" 

The ancient Immortal turned and left, silent, his past weighing heavy on his lean body. He had been the cause of so much pain and suffering to so many people. With Alexa's love, he felt redeemed, but now . . . 

His oversized coat billowed with the night breeze as he stood on the porch. The lavender blooms of the crocus caught his eye. Fingering a delicate petal, he remembered how they had bloomed on . . . 

Determined, he ran to the car and roared away heading to the airport, hoping Eva had seen the flowers and remembered too. 

THE END 

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Information on Pompeii was taken from [POMPEII ](http://www.angelfire.com/ca/celiahome/discovered.html)

[Special thanks to Daire, Peaches and Tessa, my clansibs who helped me with html, consistency, uh... fonts and the like, but especially because they put up with my lunacy, ranting and raving and general stupdity. Here's SPAM in your eye!!!! ](http://www.angelfire.com/ca/celiahome/discovered.html)

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© 1998   
Please send comments to the author! 

01/29/2001 

Background by Moyra's Web Jewels 

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](http://www.angelfire.com/ca/celiahome/discovered.html)  
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